


know my name by the end of the night

by blackkat



Series: Cracky KisaObi AUs [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Grey and Gray Morality, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Romance, Temporary Character Death, does the villains winning count as a bad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: The tide is coming in, and Kisame drifts.





	know my name by the end of the night

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Oooh, I'm so curious about what a time travelling Kisame would be like. With the set goal of saving Obito, Kiri is probably there, the rest of the world though... side quest at best.

The tide is coming in, and Kisame drifts.

The fight with Bee and the betrayal by Samehada were too much, and Kisame can't pull himself out of the waves as the wash over the shore, isn't sure he would even if he could. He _aches_, right straight down to his bones, and for all that he finally found his answers, it was all for nothing.

This isn't the truthful world he and Obito dreamed of. This is a dark, cold one, an empty beach somewhere unknown, where Kisame will die alone, betrayed, _useless_.

The sand is warm under his fingertips, and Kisame turns his head just enough to look up the shore at the haze of night falling. The moon is still up, still full, and he watches it grow dimmer and dimmer before his eyes, barely able to breathe through his regrets. The space where Samehada has always been is empty, gaping, and he knows he’s bleeding, but—

Obito is out there, fighting, probably dying as well. He’s dangerous, strong, but one person alone can't stop all the allied Nations, won't be able to stand against Zetsu and his plans to bring Madara back.

No one else knows about Madara. No one else has seen Obito flinch away from his name, or go so perfectly, carefully still under the touch of Kisame's hand. Brainwashing, Kisame knows. Old, old hurts, and Obito always said they were in the name of training, but—

Kisame's breath rasps out of his lungs, and he curls his fingers into the sand, even as the waves drag it out from beneath his grip. No one else _knows_, he thinks, half-fractured by the deepening haze over his vision, and finally, finally tries to haul himself up. It’s too late, though; his muscles give out before he’s even able to get himself out of the water, and he crashes back into the sand with a groan, trying to breathe.

“Obito,” he whispers, and closes his eyes.

Behind the darkness, everything is white.

Startled by the change, Kisame lifts his head. The pain is fading, draining away, and there's a familiar weight on his back, so well-remembered Kisame almost wants to cry. He presses a hand back, finding Samehada’s wrapped form, and his relief shudders out of him on a sigh.

“There you are,” he says, and—there’s a sting, that remembered betrayal, but Kisame loves his sword desperately enough to welcome it back even so. Samehada's always been one of the few things he could depend on.

And then, in the white emptiness, a step.

Kisame jerks around, on his feet in an instant, and stops short, eyes widening. “Obito,” he says, and takes an aborted half-step forward. Obito looks—battered. His skin has gone an unhealthy off-white and it looks like he’s cracking apart, falling to ash as Kisame watches. Something in Kisame's chest lurches, and he takes a step forward before he can stop himself, reaching out.

Cold fingers catch his, colder than any living thing should be. “Kisame,” Obito says, and smiles. It’s an expression Kisame has never seen on his face before, and takes another step on instinct, one arm coming up to sweep Obito into a hug.

But Obito holds up a hand, stopping him. “I'm sorry, Kisame,” he says, and he’s going indistinct at the edges, fading out. Falling apart, and a low, wounded sound tears out of Kisame's throat even as he freezes.

“What’s happening?” he asks, even though some part of him already knows. “Obito, is it the war? I can help—”

“Not anymore,” Obito says softly, and smiles at him. “It’s over, Kisame. We lost. Madara and Zetsu both betrayed us, but—I think it’s going to end all right.”

“Not for us,” Kisame says, and reaches up. This time Obito doesn’t stop him, just closes his eyes and tips his head into the press of Kisame's hand.

“We don’t deserve it,” Obito says, and there's a weight to it that makes Kisame's chest ache.

“No,” Kisame says, and laughs a little. “But we don’t have to care about that. We’re the bad guys.”

Obito smiles, crooked, sweet, and looks up. “I—_you _don’t deserve this,” he says. “I want to try to send you back, Kisame.”

“Back?” Kisame asks, startled. “To where?”

Obito shakes his head. “I'm not sure,” he says, and the self-directed frustration is something Kisame is familiar with. “Just—to when you were alive, and not dying. I don’t know if it will work. But—I have to try.” Reaching up, he presses a hand over Kisame's, turns his head to kiss his palm. “Please?”

“Okay,” Kisame says quietly, because Obito is asking. Because Obito is dying, or already dead, and this is all Kisame can give him.

The relief on Obito's face doesn’t make it any easier to watch the world twist, Obito's body scattering into ash at last. At that point, it’s almost a relief for Kisame to close his eyes and let the pull of darkness drag him away.

He opens them again in the darkness of a forest, with the Cypher Squad all around him, hos body whole and unbroken, and an unnamed sword in his hand, and thinks, _oh_.

Thinks, _You sent me back. _

Thinks, _I could fix it_, and feels like the world is rebuilding itself beneath his feet.

The ripple of warping air is something Kisame has been expecting for months. It’s careful, subtle, and if Kisame hadn’t been planning this encounter for months, he might have missed it entirely. As it is, it takes him a moment to spot it, and when he does he grins, turns to face the empty patch of air.

“So you finally decided to come out,” he says cheerfully, watching the slow, steady spread of the warp, the appearance of a twisted orange mask through the distorted air. “I was wondering how long you were going to just keep watching.”

Obito pauses, eye flickering down over Kisame, to Samehada resting beside him and the Mizukage's hat on the desk he’s leaning on.

“I didn’t think you were expecting me,” Obito finally says, and Kisame chuckles, pushing upright. Obito tenses when Kisame takes a step forward, but controls himself immediately afterwards, and just watches warily as Kisame closes the distance between them, only coming to a stop a handful of inches from his visitor.

“Of course I was, Obito,” Kisame says, almost gently, and reaches up. Obito goes so still he’s not even breathing, and gently, carefully Kisame pulls the mask from his face. Smiles, even though Obito is watching him with dark, careful eyes and something like fury in the slant of his mouth. Kisame chuckles, and doesn’t quite touch, but…frames his face, and takes him in.

It’s been a long year since he landed in this time, and he’s missed Obito far more than he ever thought he would be capable of.

“How,” Obito rasps, angry, but he doesn’t knock Kisame's hand away.

Kisame grins at him, showing teeth, and drops his hand. Takes a step back, and says, “You sent me here. Another you, in the future, because we were betrayed. But you fixed it.”

_I've fixed it_, he doesn’t say.

That one black eye follows him as he collects the scrolls from his desk, the files full of information he’s spent the last year gathering. “I don’t understand,” Obito says, and the bite in his voice makes it a challenge. “How do you _know that_? Why—?” He breaks off, closes his mouth, and Kisame laughs.

“I love you,” he says, a weapon, and Obito flinches, takes a step back.

“You _don’t_,” he snaps, and Kisame looks up, meets his stare and holds it. Doesn’t say anything, but lets Obito see the steady, settled weight in his eyes, the understanding of just what he’d do for the thing that curls like a monster in his chest. For that feeling, and for the memory of Obito turning to ash right in front of him.

Obito's breath shakes as it emerges, and he says more quietly, “Betrayed?”

“Zetsu,” Kisame says, and it’s a dangerous thing. “And Madara. Their plan for the world wasn’t the same as ours.”

A low, furious sound tears itself from deep in Obito's chest, and he takes a step forward. “Both of them? The whole plan—”

Kisame offers him the scrolls, the bits of information on all the world’s weak spots, all the vulnerable little chinks in the Nations’ armor. “We can make a new plan,” he says, grinning. “Together. A world with no lies, and no war.”

Obito stares at him for a long, long moment, and then slowly, deliberately reaches out and curls his scarred fingers over Kisame's on the scrolls. “One big war to stop all the rest?” he asks bitterly, and the twist of his mouth is a perfectly furious, beautiful thing. Kisame used to kiss him, once, and he wants to again more than anything.

Instead, he chuckles, leans in. Curls his free hand around Obito's elbow, then slides it up to his shoulder, and when he tugs Obito doesn’t resist. He lets himself be drawn in, and this time, _this_ time Kisame gets to wrap an arm around him and hold like he couldn’t when their world was ending.

“Not all wars have to be on battlefields, between armies,” he points out. “We’re shinobi. There are better ways to fight.”

For a moment Obito is stiff and still in his arms, and then—

Then he laughs, and a hand settles on Kisame's hip. It’s a ragged laugh, raw, but it still makes Kisame smile.

“You mean it,” he says in something like disbelief. “It’s—you want this, too.”

“Everything,” Kisame says, and smiles in the darkness, content not to let go.


End file.
